


Secret affair

by Cirilla9



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Drama, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Power Imbalance, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: AU in which Juliana works as a secretary in Nazi headquarters, John is her boss, they have an affair.





	Secret affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Written for the request: Julianna/John - as dark as you can go. Julianna/Helen. John/Helen. AU. D/s. Dubcon.
> 
> I tried to fulfill it the best I could. I hope you'll like it, Mirriall.

Juliana set the porcelain cup, white, adorned with a black swastika sign, small, unobtrusive, elegant, on a table. She filled it with a coffee, pouring the hot liquid from a pot, careful not to spill any drop. The pleasant smell spread in the air, reaching their senses, filling mind with contentment and fresh inflow of pure energy.

No sugar, no milk, just as Herr Obergruppenführer preferred. Juliana gathered her tray, put her hair behind her ear and moved to the door. She was discreet and silent, one could easily miss the fact that she was there at all.

\- Wait, - the rich voice stopped her.

But of course nothing would escape _his_ attention. He might not look at her when she poured him a coffee, occupied by his reports and paper work, make her feel almost ignored, neglected; but of course he was aware of her presence there, like he was about every detail in his surrounding, always watchful, always attentive. No detail could hide from his eyes.

\- You put them on, - he noticed casually.

Juliana’s breath caught a little, her heart throbbed faster for one beat.

\- Yes, - she said shyly, hesitatingly turning around, swiping her hair back again involuntarily.

He was watching her now, sitting in an armchair in full uniform, high leather boots, hands stippled before medals’ covered chest. Any other person would look laid back, he looked intimidating. She felt small and insignificant before that falconish gaze.

\- Come here, - he said but it sounded like an order.

She moved toward him, twisting her hands on the tray.

\- Closer, - he said when she reached the opposite side of the low table.

She glanced at the door furtively, then circumvented the table, putting the tray on it.

\- Closer, - he demanded quietly but somehow more sternly.

He was so close now they were almost touching. She listened to him nonetheless and took the last step forward until her legs brushed his knees. She risked a glance at him. Herr Smith still looked unsatisfied, waiting for the order to be fulfilled correctly.

Juliana felt lost at the lack of hints of what he wanted, of how to please him but then she got it. She leaned down, going so far in her latitude as to put her hand on his thigh for support. Then she turned her head to the side a little.

She almost shuddered as his hand came up into contact with her skin, gathering her hair, pulling them back out of the way. He traced the sensitive shelf of her ear before touching the earing itself. It was a little white pearl, the pair of her most expensive earrings she got from him the other day without any special occasion.

Preoccupied with the caresses he was allotting to her ear and neck, to the outline of her jaw, she did not notice the actions of his other hand until it touched at her leg just beneath the skirt and it traveled up from there, sliding up her tight, crumpling the stiff material of the skirt.

When his fingers brushed her cunt she jerked but he grabbed the back of her neck firmly preventing the eventual retreat.

She stood between his legs now, leaned onto him, one hand on his lap, the other clutching his shoulder to steady herself as he slid his fingers beneath the soft material of her pants and with practiced ease found the slit, all the time looking at her attentively.

She looked back into his clear green eye as his fingers moved in her. Her lips parted but no sound came out. She controlled herself, there were his men just behind the door and no one should know what was happening between them even if they suspected something.

Then his fingers left her abruptly, leaving her unsatisfied and disarranged.

For a moment she feared she would be send away when he looked like he was contemplating what his next movement should be. But then he grabbed her cardigan, started to unbutton it. His brows frowned as another button resisted, held by too tight hole. Juliana for a second hoped he’d just tear it but they had to remain careful. No trace of their clandestine activities should go outside this office.

\- Take it off, – he said letting her go and loosening his own collar.

She straightened and took care of the buttons herself, moving few steps away to give them space to undress properly.

Before she was finished, he was on her. Strong hands grasped her waist, his body pressed from behind. She didn’t cry out in surprise, she didn’t utter any noise. She was good at it even if he made it increasingly harder. They both learned from each other, practicing their skills.

He made her go on the floor, at her hands and knees. He rolled up her skirt all the way up till it pooled at her hips.

She breathed shallower now, this moment of waiting, of being unsure, feeling insecure, awaiting for when he decide to…

He breached her, with his fingers again first and she cannot help but look over her shoulder at him.

John send her an amused gaze.

\- Impatient, girl?

His fingers twisted punishingly at the same time. She gasped, her head fell back down. then his fingers were out and he replaced them with his manhood, pushed in smoothly.

He still wore his uniform, just opened his garment enough to free himself. She could feel the rough material of the harsh fabric on her bare buttocks and upper tights where the stockings ended. He took her from behind, none too gently. She heard his harsh breath over the rush of blood in her own ears.

He reached with one hand to her head again, but instead of touching the earring this time he slid his palm under her neck, where the aorta pulsed frantically like a butterfly; and tilted her head slightly up. A tiny shiver of fear rolled through her, he had so much control in his hands, it would be enough to squeeze a little harder and without much effort from his side she would be robbed off her breath. And right now she was aware just how much she needed the air as with his each powerful thrust the breath was pushed from her lungs.

That was when they heard raised voices in behind the door. They froze in their position, Juliana on her knees, John behind her, _inside_ her, leaned over her slimmer body, both staring at the door.

From the noises from the antechamber one could tell there appeared a woman that demanded an immediate entrance. The woman was very confident, spoke loudly but did not shout; her voice met the barrier of Erich’s tentative proscriptions.

\- You cannot enter now, ma’am, the boss is occupied at the moment. Surely you could wait for a w-

\- I’m not going to take him long and I don’t have the desire to spend here all day long.

There were shuffling sounds like Erich stood from his place to try blocking her ingress physically.

\- Just let me pass, lad.

\- I’m sorry ma’am but you really shouldn’t…

As the argument went on behind the narrow barrier of a door, John swiftly pulled out of her and donned his trousers hastily, retreating back to his armchair, sitting so that what was needed to be covered would not be visible.

Juliana followed his example, getting up from the floor, pulling down her raised skirt.

The doors banged open as Helen omitted the stressed young officer and marched into John’s office. She stopped at the door taking in the sight before her eyes. Her husband sitting in an armchair, sipping his coffee a little too innocently; the secretary smoothing the crumples of her skirt, the few unbuttoned buttons of her sweater.

Juliana looked down, not daring to look her in the eye. The eye that, like her husband’s, could notice too much, reveal what should stayed hidden. Juliana went to the doors, murmuring her excuses of not wanting to disturb them.

\- Wait, - stopped her female voice this time.

She stilled, and turned slowly around with a sinking feeling in her gut.

\- You forget the tray, - said Helen.

Juliana did her best to cover the relief painting on her face but she wasn’t sure if she succeeded. She threw herself to retrieve the tray, to obscure her face and emotions from both of them.

When she leaned down she almost jumped at the sudden feeling of two pairs of palms at her waist. Far more feminine and smaller than the ones that grabbed her waist moments ago but the touch was no less firm, even more demanding, she would say.

Before she could protest one of the insistent hands traveled lower and, quick and sure, moved under her dress and up to the still wet cling.

She gasped, looking up at John for guidance but he looked above her shoulder, at his wife.

\- Just as I thought. – said Helen from behind her. – You two looked like I interrupted you something. Well? – she raised an eyebrow at John, – Why would you not finish? I’d watch gladly.

Juliana tensed even as Helen left her side to strode over to her husband. She sat on the arm of the armchair, sliding her hand down between his legs, squeezing him, doing this with such audacity Juliana would never dare.

Helen leaned down and whispered something to John’s ear not taking her hand from his cock and he looked at her sideways and smiled with such a smile he never directed at Juliana. There was so much warmth in it, so much mutual understanding between them that Juliana felt redundant for a moment.

Then John stood up and advanced toward her. Helen took his place in an armchair and reclined there to watch.


End file.
